The year is 1899. You are 29 year old (Y/N) Luck, wife to William Luck - an heir to his fathers fortune who resides in Rhodes. You had no other choice but to marry William Luck, ignoring the fact you have no love for him. It's been 2 years since you...
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You first met Arthur Morgan in the streets of Chicago in 1889 at age 19. You were dressed up at the local paperboy with a stack of out-dated newspapers that you would sell for 50¢ a paper. You had stuffed all of your (Y/H/C) hair into a flat cap to look more masculine as you stood outside the post-office and hollered out; "paper! Get your paper!"
The people who would come up often wore bowler hats or fine silk dresses, so you'd walk past them, "accidentally" bumping your shoulder into theirs while slipping your hand in their pockets for anything of value.
One on particular windy day, a man had asked for a paper so you gave him one for the lucky price of 50¢. This man made the mistake of wearing his golden pocket watch in the outside of his coat. You made the mistake of trying to swipe it.
You pushed yourself into his shoulder and tried pulling at his pocket watch, he felt the tug and locked his hand around your wrist. After threats of him going to call the police and even beat you to death, a man named Dutch van der Line pushed himself into the situation.
He told the man that you were his son and you thought that when he said "'tis better to give than to receive" that made stealing okay. He tried to explain to the man that your mama had dropped you on your head as a baby and that's when a man with blue eyes, about twenty-six years of age walks over and puts his arm around you.
"Mama had a bit of a drinkin' problem she did," he says with a thick western accent. You could tell he wasn't from the area or a city at all, which only made you more curious as to who he was.
Luckily, Dutch was a charming man who had a very peculiar way with words and he managed to get the man to leave without going to the police. They were more than open to letting you stay with them at their camp in Forest Glen, a secluded forest in suburban Chicago.
Your relationship with Arthur Morgan was always very rocky.
He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch since the day you'd met him. He always knew how to get under your skin, making it itch and prickle, making your hands form fists and your moth spew vicious things; Arthur Morgan drove you wild. It was Arthur Morgan who spat ugly words at you with his pretty pretty mouth, eyes blazing. It was Arthur Morgan whose face you wanted to shatter with your bare fist. It was also Arthur Morgan whose narrowed, yet doe-like, eyes and whose rare, heart-throbbing, smile made your gut clench and made your heart fill with longing. And it was- it is Arthur Morgan who has the key to your diminished heart.
After 9 months of you being in the gang he finally confessed his feelings to you. It was one of the most transcendent experience of your life.
"Dutch'll be mad, Arthur." You said, reminding him of the consequences of you leaving camp so late after your incident in Ohio. You and John were being harassed by some rag-tag bunch called The Driddler's and you shot their leader clean through the back of the skull. It didn't get you out of the trouble you were all already in, it just made it worse. You also had an earful to hear from Miss Grimshaw when you got back to camp.
